


Cyar'ika (Dear One)

by Pielotdameron



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, bed sharing, but a tiny smidge of angst, mostly fluff honestly, the clones are little shits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25809169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pielotdameron/pseuds/Pielotdameron
Summary: Cody isn’t supposed to form bonds, the clones were designed for war, not love.But the rule-strict Jedi that wanders into his life throws all of that training right down the waste chute.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 231





	Cyar'ika (Dear One)

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written CodyWan before, but I read so many sweet fics that I just couldn’t help myself. They’re so cute

Worry was not an emotion that the clones were supposed to feel after the experiments, they weren’t supposed to care, love, grieve. Very quickly, however, Cody realised that he still felt all of those things, and in large, crashing amounts.

It started with his brothers, his fierce desire to protect and nurture his _Vode,_ including but not exclusively during battle. During the experiments on Kamino, they had all relied on one another for comfort, being the only thing the others had, the only thing they couldn’t take from them.

When he was promoted to Commander, he expected his brothers to start treating him differently, and had been immensely relieved when they all still stood up to him, using bad language and still conversing with him in Mando’a. He knew soon he would be selected for a battalion, but he had a blissful month of rigorous training before he would be out in the field with a new general. According to his older brothers, their Generals were to be _jetii,_ and that they should watch their behaviour because the Jedi were an unfeeling and cold command to be under. Cody spent the weeks after that warning training himself to respond with respect, conduct himself in a strict manner as a commander should. When he and Rex were sent away, they held each other close, and that was the last moment of weakness they allowed themselves.

The 212th battalion turned out to be many of his younger brothers. He was relieved to see that they had all completed their training, the little scratch on their helmets they had chosen to represent the trials. He still had no idea what to expect of the famed _jetii_ , especially when the man that stepped into their sights was dressed similarly to them. He knew that the Jedi usually wore long robes, and it puzzled him for a moment. Clearly a moment too long, because he hadn’t realised he was being addressed, hadn’t heard the question. To his mortification, the Jedi raised one eyebrow, distracting him once more when he noticed the soft dusting of freckles on the mans cheeks. Clearly sensing his lack of focus, the _jetii_ smiled warmly at him.

“I’m General Kenobi, and you are?” The mans voice was warm, had a telltale Coruscanti accent that curled his letters, making them sound almost musical. Cody mentally shook himself. He opened his mouth to answer and then paused, thinking. Surely, their higher ups had told the General their numbers? Was the man just asking him as a test? His confusion must have echoed in the force, for blue eyes filled with sadness, a fleeting moment of emotion before the _jetii_ shielded himself. The ginger didn’t press, and returned to his position at the front of the squadron.

“As your general, I will be in main control of the plans. However, I do not wish to control you all. If you have any concerns, or wish to give your opinion on a mission plan, do not hesitate to ask me.” His voice was like the rare honey that Cody once had the pleasure to put in his caff, and he found himself drifting again, realising too late once more that he was being far too unprofessional. There was a blush on his general’s cheekbones, highlighting the soft marks on his face, but to Cody’s relief, the man chose not to comment on the Commanders poor attempt at self control. When the General left the room, there was an immediate swarm of whispered Mando’a as his brothers tried to decipher the General. They had never been asked for their opinion in even the simplest matter of what they could eat, and now this unfamiliar _jetii,_ a being known for his apparent cruelty, had marched in there and claimed they could talk to him about whatever they wanted. Cody got the feeling the general meant their names, but he didn’t know if he could trust the man, so for the time being, he watched from afar.

Soon enough, his traitorous heart latched onto General Kenobi, and his worry extended to the ginger. Over the course of their time together, Kenobi had proved himself to go against every single one of the Jedi stereotypes. He asked the men for their opinions on missions, comforted them once one had gone wrong, pointedly ignored their rare moments of insolence and grieved with them over their fallen brothers.

However, the most memorable occasion for Cody, was the time his General had lied directly to the councils faces.

One of their missions had gone disastrously wrong, on a desolate planet made entirely of dust and sand. Their ship had crashed, leaving many of their men shaken, after being shot from the sky by a hidden separatist gunship. They had all experienced a strange cushion as they tumbled towards the planet, breaking through the atmosphere, but only Cody recognised it for what it was. The force wrapped around him like a blanket, holding him tightly to prevent him hitting the front shields, and when he blinked his eyes open against his brains will, he found General Kenobi, his arms outstretched, looking like he was in intense pain. Cody had lost consciousness just before they hit the surface, his last view a bright blue pair of eyes and armoured shoulders.

When they had stirred on the planet, every single one of them unscathed despite the mangled wreckage that was their ship, they weren’t shoulders-deep in sand, instead they were all carefully settled close together, many of them actually curled up atop one another in a comfortable way of guarding their backs. A quick scan of his brothers had reassured him of their safety and found them all peacefully sleeping. His worry shifted quickly then to the _jetii_ he had come to hold dear, finding the ginger male nowhere to be seen. He had pulled himself to his feet, discovering only a small ache in his shoulder despite having been in the cockpit, which was currently in seven different pieces across the desert, blown apart by the gathering pressure. He’d taken a deep breath to centre himself.

There had been blood in the sand, and when he had tracked it, he found their General, curled in on himself guardedly, but clearly not asleep, one hand outstretched towards his brothers. Cody, knowing there was no way using the force for such things could be healthy, had shaken the General as gently as possible. Kenobi has looked at him so blankly, his blue eyes dull, and Cody realised that despite being in shock, the General wasn’t using his remaining strength to keep himself safe, no. He was expending valuable energy to guard he and his brothers while they rested. He knew then that his feelings weren’t going away anytime soon.

When they had been retrieved from the planet, Kenobi had been half-conscious, and yet had faced the council head on, Cody at his side, and praised the clones for excellent work out in the field, earning three of Cody’s brothers a promotion. When the call had ended, Cody found himself catching a tumbling Jedi who’s eyes had rolled back in his head. And yet, as he carried his General towards the med bay, the man threw up a hearty protest, sounding terrified. Cody had caved and taken the man back to his quarters, where he used his minimal medical knowledge to patch up the barely-there Jedi.

That night, Cody had seen a new part of his dear General. And that morning, when they both awoke holding one another close in the General’s bed, Cody had told him his true name, being the first of the clones to share the little personal detail they held close to their hearts. In return, his General had shared his first name.

Cody loved Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Cody and Obi-Wan grew close. Each morning, Cody would join the ginger in his quarters while he meditated, taking his caff in the pleasant silence of the early hours. His General would offer him the warmest smile when he opened his eyes and found Cody waiting with some non-issue tea, the one thing Obi-Wan would indulge himself in. They would sit in companionable quiet for awhile, shoulders touching through their blacks, Cody’s head resting against the top of Obi-Wan’s as the General sipped his tea and mentally prepared for the day.

Often throughout the day they would initiate casual contact. Easy hand brushes, a reassuring grip on a shoulder, even a playful hip nudge once, when Cody had been zoned out. Despite his training to always address his higher ups with respect, Cody found himself easily ribbing at Obi-Wan, an easy companionship between them despite everything that should stand in their way and stop them being close.

The nights were cold and lonely. Or at least, they had been before Obi-Wan started slipping into his bunk in the barracks in the dead of the night cycle. None of the other clones mentioned anything to either of them, but Cody would have to be deaf and stupid not to notice the rumours, often spread in Mando’a in the hopes Kenobi wouldn’t notice. Cody could be smugly pleased knowing full well that Obi-Wan often went bright pink, having learnt Mando’a as a padawan to please his master, and would later bury his head in Cody’s shoulder in embarrassment as the commander laughed freely, an arm wrapped around freckled shoulders, cupping his neck gently.

Cody, as a clone, had never even touched a lightsaber, so the day Obi-Wan offered it out to him when they were sparring, he could have sworn his heart dropped through his stomach. Clearly, the man had sensed his unease with the weapon, because that day they had sparred together for so long the night cycle came around, panting and laughing through three changes in guard, breathless in their almost childish joy, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber a warm, familiar presence in Cody’s hand at the end of it. He knew the lightsaber was a _jetiis_ e life, and he felt truly honoured to be allowed to even hold it for a moment, let alone learn how to use it to defend himself.  
  


After that day, Cody often found himself in possession of the weapon, to the point he was debating tying it to his dear Jedi just to prove a point. He feigned annoyance, but really he was always just relieved there was somebody to return the weapon to. Obi-Wan always gave him this shy little smile, blush spattered across his cheeks, and that made chasing around after the man worth it.

However, after these incidents where he lost his saber, Obi-Wan would always have the worst nightmares. It became a little easier when Cody started visiting the Generals quarters, but sometimes he would still wake up yelling, tears springing to his eyes as he grappled at Cody’s shoulders. Cody would press gentle kisses to his hair and murmur useless words into it until the general fell back asleep.

The gradual progression of their relationship felt easy and right, baby steps that seemed to carry them swiftly towards attachment. Fortunately, neither of them seemed opposed. The _jetii_ may have rules against attachments, but Obi-Wan payed them no mind.

Under the light of the nearest moon, marking exactly two years of them knowing one another, Cody pressed his lips to his shocked general’s. And when Obi-Wan responded with soft, vulnerable sounds and needy lips pressing back, nothing felt more right to Cody.

With a reverent whisper of “ _Kote,_ please” Obi-Wan Kenobi sealed his place in Cody’s heart forever, and he knew then he would give anything for this man.

**Author's Note:**

> How did I do?


End file.
